Remembrance and Regrets
by Rowena Zahnrei
Summary: Aboard the Enterprise-G, Commodore Data thinks back to the first time he attempted to create a holodeck program from scratch and share it with his friends. But, was it just the program he wanted to share, or was he seeking something deeper even then? A special someone, perhaps? Reviews welcome! :)
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ or any of its fantastic characters, but Commodore Data's crew (Rudy, Asil, Kinoshita, Zipok, Devna, Jemma Elbrun, etc.) are my own original characters and so are his android offspring Natalie (Natty) and Isaac. Please don't sue me or steal my story. Thanks! :)

NOTE: This story takes place in the possible future I described in my previous story _Fathers and Sons._ This potential future scenario has Commodore Data commanding the _Enterprise-G_ some 39+ years after _Star Trek: Generations_. But, that's just the bread. The filling of this story will be told in flashbacks to Data's time on the _Enterprise-D_.

 _Remembrance and regrets: they too are a part of friendship. And, understanding that has brought you a step closer to understanding humanity._

 _~Captain Picard to Data, "Pen Pals"_

 **Remembrance and Regrets**

 **By Rowena Zahnrei**

Chief Engineer Dumaka "Rudy" Rudo tapped the door chime to Commodore Data's Briefing Room and waited, nodding a smile to the _Enterprise-G_ 's second officer, Lt. Commander Asil, where she sat at her bridge station.

The slender Vulcan acknowledged the tall, dark-skinned human by raising her left eyebrow ever so slightly.

Rudy almost laughed. One of these days, he _would_ catch her smiling back, he knew he would. Even Vulcans couldn't keep up such a stern expression _all_ the time.

"Enter," the commodore's voice called.

Rudy strode through the sliding doors into the commodore's office and turned his grin on his commanding officer.

"Good morning, sir," he said, handing Data a slim padd. "I have the report you wanted. These are all the holodeck programs that haven't been accessed in over a year. With your approval, they'll be wiped as part of the ship-wide computer tune-up."

Data quickly scanned his amber eyes over the surprisingly long list.

"It probably shouldn't, but it always amazes me how much memory these programs take up," the android observed, handing the padd back to the engineer.

"They're huge, all right, and getting bigger all the time," Rudy agreed. "But, they're also infinitely more sophisticated than the old style RPGs, so I'm not complaining."

"I don't know," Data said, smiling slightly as he leaned back in his chair. "There is something to be said for a straightforward mystery, or a simple ocean view…"

"Yeah, but I can get an ocean view planetside," Rudy said. "When I'm in the holodeck, I want something I can't get out in the real world. The kind of gaming experience you can only find in that special realm where imagination meets technology. You know what I mean, sir?"

"Indeed," Data said. "And, I believe it is that active imagination of yours that makes you such a good engineer. Continue with the tune-up, Commander. I'd like all maintenance done before we begin our mapping survey of this globular cluster."

"Aye, sir," Rudy said cheerily, and headed back out the door.

Data started to return to his work, when a stray thought stopped him cold. Talking about old-style holodeck programs had triggered a memory...a cluster of memories...he hadn't accessed for nearly five decades.

Memories of a very special program he had designed, back during his first year aboard the _Enterprise-D_ …

 _To Be Continued…_

 _There's more to come soon. Thanks for reading so far! Any opinions you'd be willing to share would be deeply appreciated! :)_


	2. Sunrise, Sunset

_Yay, thanks! I'm happy you like it so far, and I'm more than happy to share more of this story with you! :)_

 _Here's:_

 **1\. Sunrise, Sunset**

"Why is this so hard for you to believe?" Tasha said, staring around the square table at Will, Geordi, Deanna, and Data. "It can't be that unusual."

"I just find it hard to believe that in the four years you spent on Earth, and in all your time in Starfleet after that, you never watched the sun rise. Even once," Will said.

"Why would I?" Tasha asked. "At the academy, I was always either asleep or training when the sun came up. And back at the colony…well…we didn't exactly go above ground much. Especially in the dark. What's the big deal, anyway?" She scowled defensively, fidgeting in place as she always did when confronted with memories of the chaotic, violent world where she grew up. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who's never seen a sunrise."

Geordi raised his hand, offering the blonde Security Chief a small smile.

"You can count me," the blind officer said and tapped his silvery VISOR, which translated the entire electromagnetic spectrum into signals his brain processed as a complex visual stew only Geordi had the experience to navigate. "I couldn't see a sunrise if I stared straight at it. Well, not the same way the rest of you would, anyway, with depth and shade and color…"

Data regarded him curiously, then Tasha, before turning his golden eyes to Will Riker.

"Does the act of watching the sun rise hold some significance for humans?" the young android asked.

Will looked as if he'd been suddenly put on the spot…which had not been Data's intention. He would never understand why his simple questions about human behaviors so often provoked these expressions of consternation.

The first officer leaned back in his chair and shrugged.

"Well," he said, a little awkwardly, "it's a beautiful natural phenomenon. But, beyond that, I guess it's usually seen as a romantic activity. For humans, a sunrise symbolizes new beginnings…a fresh start. A couple will often watch the sunrise after spending a night…in each other's company."

He glanced at Deanna, who looked away.

Data tilted his head, his eyes turning back to Tasha, who was still staring down at her clenched fists, then to Geordi, who seemed uncharacteristically gloomy.

"Then…to never have seen one—"

"Let's change the subject, Data," Deanna interrupted, sensing Tasha and Geordi's growing discomfort.

"If you wish, Counselor," Data said, clearly baffled, and observed his friends' expressions lighten as the topic turned to their upcoming shore leave.

But, the conversation had puzzled him, and Data found it…unsettling…when the humans around him seemed to be communicating together on some non-verbal level he simply could not read or understand.

That night, after his friends had decided it was late enough to leave the congenial atmosphere of Ten Forward and head off to sleep, Data spent some time researching sunrises and their socio-cultural significance at the enhanced computer console in his quarters. Only when he felt he had accumulated enough general information to warrant a satisfactory level of understanding did he push his chair back from the screen, his golden eyes unfocusing slightly as he applied what he had learned to the specific cases of his friends Geordi and Tasha.

Before long, an idea began to form in his mind. An idea he very quickly put into action.

* * *

"I don't get it," Geordi said grumpily, catching a tired yawn with his hand as he and Tasha trailed their android friend through the _Enterprise_ corridors. "What's this all about, Data?"

"Yeah, Data," Tasha said, just as grumpily. "Morning shift starts in three hours. I was planning on a little more sleep before meeting my guys for calisthenics."

"All will be revealed in just a moment," Data assured them, somewhat troubled by his friends' unanticipatedly sullen reactions to his invitation. He stopped outside Holodeck One and tapped at the keypad.

"After you," he said politely, gesturing for the two humans to precede him through the sliding doors.

A moment later the doors closed, leaving the trio in almost total darkness.

"Yeah…" Geordi said slowly, frowning at the cool, breezy blackness all around them. "OK, Data, I still don't get it. What exactly _aren't_ we looking at here?"

"No, wait, I think I hear something," Tasha said. "Insects? And water…we're near water. And, ah- the stars! I didn't see them for a minute because of the clouds."

"Yes, Tasha," Data said, slightly encouraged. "We are standing on a rocky cliff side overlooking Earth's Atlantic Ocean, from the vantage point of the southern New England coastline."

"The point being…?" Geordi prompted.

"You will begin to see in one minute, fifty-eight seconds," Data informed him, and turned to stare at the dark, rippling sea.

The two humans shared a long-suffering look and fidgeted, humoring their android friend as they waited…

And waited…

And waited…

…and waited for something to happen.

"Data…" Tasha said impatiently. "I really don't have time to—"

"There!" Geordi exclaimed, pointing straight ahead. "My VISOR's picking up…I'm not sure. It looks to be…a _line_ of light at the horizon. It's weird: I'm not getting any of the usual electromagnetic activity…just that thin, yellow line. And a sort of…purplish haze just above it. Are you seeing this, Tasha?"

"Yes, Geordi," she said, and glanced confusedly at Data in the slowly brightening light. "Is this what you got us out here for?" she asked him. "To show us a sunrise?"

Data looked from her to Geordi, disquieted by the tone he heard in her voice.

"You are displeased?" he asked.

"No, not displeased," she said, and shook her head. "Data, is this because of what Commander Riker said last night?"

Data opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted when Geordi ripped the VISOR from his eyes and initiated a diagnostic cycle.

"Whoa…what-?" the young navigator exclaimed. "The VISOR's fine! Then…what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Tasha asked, placing a concerned hand on his arm. "Is something wrong?"

Geordi slid his VISOR back into place.

"Tasha…" the young man breathed, his expression wide with growing wonder as he gently brushed his dark fingers over her pale, worried face. "I…I can _see_ you. The way I saw you when Q— But…"

He dropped his hands from her face and spun on Data.

"What did you do?" he demanded angrily. "What exactly is going on here, Data?"

Data blinked, his entire posture radiating confusion and unease.

"I am sorry," he said. "I did not anticipate this reaction. I designed this program to emit light and energy in such a way that your VISOR would interpret only the visible range of the electromagnetic spectrum…as it is interpreted by human eyes and the human brain. If this displeases you, I can—"

"But, why?" Geordi exclaimed, clearly agitated. "Why would you do this? God, Data, I can barely tell what I'm looking at!"

"My apologies, Geordi," Data said, rather helplessly, his white-gold features looking oddly flushed in the rosy light slowly overtaking the sky and sea. "I had no wish to upset you. Or you, Tasha. I thought…you would be pleased."

Tasha sighed.

"Well, it was a nice thought, Data," she said, and glanced at the view: the rugged, rocky shoreline, the short, twisted pines and dark, overgrown forest beyond... "And, it's a very pretty program. But really, if you're going to do something like this, this early in the morning, we'd appreciate a little warning. OK?"

"Yes, Tasha," Data said quietly.

"Hey," she said, and gave his arm a little squeeze. "Hey, now, don't be like that. There's still some time before I have to go lead morning exercises. We'll stay and watch the sunrise with you, if that's what you want. Right, Geordi?"

"Yeah," Geordi said, but he still seemed uncomfortable and distracted, staring around at the pebbly sand and the scruffy little white and purple wildflowers that grew there, then following the path of a trio of seabirds across the rosy-orange sky.

Data's brow wrinkled.

"No..." he said, as if puzzled by his own realization. "This is not what I wanted."

"What do you mean?" Tasha asked.

Data straightened slightly, his clasped fingers twitching in front of him.

"I designed this program specifically with you and Geordi in mind," he said, his voice completely even. "You both have offered me your friendship, taught me to explore my own interests…even helped me discover a latent creative ability I never suspected that I possessed. I wanted to provide a similar experience for you. To that end, I drew on these new…talents…to make this program: a scenario with layered socio-cultural meaning the three of us could share as a social unit. But it seems now that I have erred. I will have to reevaluate my understanding of human social customs, interests, interpretations, motivations, relationships, and—"

"No, no, Data, stop!" Tasha exclaimed.

Data blinked at her and tilted his head.

"Data, you didn't err," she told him. "You wanted to surprise us with something beautiful and we just didn't understand, that's all. Don't let this experience make you start second guessing yourself. Sharing a sunrise with your friends...it's nice! A really nice thought. Geordi, tell him it was a nice thought. …Geordi?"

But the young navigator was shaking his head.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know! I never imagined the holodeck was capable of anything like this. Of allowing me…allowing me to _see_ …almost the same way you do…"

"Almost?" Tasha asked.

"Now the light's brighter, I can see there's a…slightly _unreal_ quality to everything," he admitted. "Like I can tell I'm standing inside a computer-rendered image. A really expertly rendered image, but…it's not like it was on the bridge that day… When I saw your faces…with my own eyes…"

"That may be my fault," Data said. "Perhaps your VISOR is interpreting the program as my optic sensors do. Holodeck images seem unreal to me, as well. I could attempt further adjustments—"

"No, Data," Geordi said, and shook his head. "I have enough to deal with as it is."

"As you wish, Geordi."

The android hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer to his friend.

"Has my program upset you, Geordi?" he asked.

Geordi sighed.

"It's not the program, Data...or the thought behind it," he said. "It's… I guess it's me. I always wanted to be able to see the way the rest of you do. But…maybe it's like the philosopher said."

"Philosopher?" Data queried.

"You know," Geordi said. "That the _having's_ not always so pleasing a thing as the _wanting."_ He chuckled a little, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "If you ever get _your_ wish and become human…well, you'll know what I mean."

"I do not wish to be physically human," Data said. "Merely to comprehend…and possibly share in…the human condition."

Geordi regarded him, wondering if the android ever _would_ understand.

"Sure, Data," he said, and looked out at the gilded waves. Gulls and terns played in the golden light, and leaping fish splashed sunbeams. As Tasha came up beside them, Geordi took in a deep breath of warm, salt air and stretched his arms behind his head.

"I guess I could get used to this," he said.

Tasha smiled.

"I guess I could too," she said, and gave Data a friendly nudge. "Hey, maybe the three of us could do this again sometime. We could bring some breakfast, spread it out on that boulder over there."

She gestured to a large, flat rock right near the cliff's edge, sheltered by a particularly scraggly pine.

"Hey, yeah," Geordi said, brightening. "That would be fun. How about it, Data?"

Data looked from one of his close friends to the other, his expression noticeably lightening. For a moment, he almost seemed to smile.

"That would be acceptable," he said.

His friends laughed. Geordi clapped his shoulder, Tasha took his hand, and together the three of them watched the sky fade from rosy gold to pale, morning blue, enjoying the shared experience as a cohesive social unit.

* * *

Three weeks later, Data stood at the edge of the rocky cliff, his perpetually neat hair ruffled gently by the wind off the sea behind him. He heard the holodeck doors open, his friend's footsteps approach, but he didn't lift his eyes from the wooden bench.

"I thought I'd find you here," Geordi said, shaking his head slightly in disorientation as he adjusted to the very different way of seeing that Data's program allowed him to experience. He turned his gaze to where Data was staring, taking a moment to figure out the shape, depth, and color of what he was looking at.

"Is that a plaque?" he asked, leaning closer to the bench to try to read the words…another very different and rather disorienting experience.

 _Lieutenant Natasha "Tasha" Yar_

 _Honored Officer. Cherished Friend._

 _2337 - 2364_

"I have seen memorial benches in parks on Earth," Data said matter-of-factly. "Somehow, it seemed appropriate to add such a bench to this program."

He walked past the lichen-dotted boulder where the three friends had shared several morning picnics, and plucked a delicate beach rose from a bush that marked the footpath into the forest. Striding back to the bench, he tucked the flower's stem behind the metal plaque and stepped back beside Geordi.

"She'll be missed," the human said roughly.

"Indeed," the android agreed.

That was the last time Geordi ever joined him in that holodeck program. After six months of disuse, Data removed it from the main computer, but kept it saved on a tiny data disk in his quarters. The memories they had shared there together were too important to him to let him erase it permanently. And beyond that, he was not adverse to the prospect of sharing his sunrise program with someone else someday. A new friend he had yet to meet, with whom he could share his memories of Tasha. And, perhaps, that new friend would share her memories with him.

It was a pleasant thought. A hopeful one.

Yet, the program remained tucked away in Data's drawer for two years before he found an opportunity to run it again…

 _To Be Continued…_

 _References include - TNG: Heart of Glory; Hide and Q; 11001001; The Naked Now; Skin of Evil; TOS: Amok Time. The program's setting is based on a park on a small island back home that's been cluttering up my thoughts something awful, I think because this is the first time my research has kept me away from home all summer, and now classes are starting up again and I can't go home until Christmas. Guess I gotta look at it as an adventure. :) Anyway, the park's beautiful, but full of memorial benches...which I find kind of creepy. But, they're the inspiration behind this story.  
_

 _I'd really like to know your opinion of my story so far! Please Review! :)_


	3. Storybook Castles

**2\. Storybook Castles**

Geordi took a long sip of his synth-ale, then sighed.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised, Data," he said. "And it's not just because she's an android. Not really. See, people like you and Lal…well, you can be a little…intimidating…at first. Especially to a bunch of school kids."

Data canted his head, regarding his friend from across the softly glowing table. Ten Forward was bustling with its usual early-evening crowd: dayshifters just coming off duty, taking a few minutes to decompress with their friends before heading out to dinner or to other recreational events and activities. But, Data was too focused on the problem at hand to observe their interactions.

"Intimidating?" the android repeated with an air of concern.

Geordi shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he struggled to find words that would help his friend, rather than confuse him further.

"Data…" he said. "Let me put it this way. You're a very, very smart guy. Your talents and abilities are wide-ranging, and you draw on that when you try to connect with other people –which is good! But, you do it on a very intellectual level. Now, that's fine when you're socializing with specialists, like me and most of your other friends on this ship. But try it out on non-specialists…and it can be a bit much."

"Hm…" Data looked thoughtful. "Then, you are suggesting that the social isolation Lal experienced today at school was a product of miscommunication."

"In a sense…" Geordi said. "But, there's more to it, Data. A lot more. Lal may be two weeks old, chronologically, but she _looks_ like a young woman, and her general knowledge, critical thinking and analytical skills must rate at _least_ at a college level. Put her in a group with little kids, or a bunch of teenagers, and they're not going to know how to react to her. Is she a grown-up? Is she a kid like them? Add to that the way she talks – drawing on intellectual knowledge rather than common, relatable experiences – her lack of facial expression or emotional affect…and the kids are left with a confusing puzzle of mixed signals it's much easier for them to ignore than try to work out."

Data lowered his golden eyes, his pale face shadowed by a slight frown.

"Then, what would you suggest, Geordi?" he asked. "I am her father. It is my role to guide her development. But, what if Admiral Haftel is correct, and I am ill equipped for the task? I do not wish to confuse her, or cause her to doubt the veracity of my advice."

"That admiral's an idiot," Geordi declared. "Lal trusts you, Data. Maybe you should try trusting yourself. You've faced a lot of the same troubles Lal's going through. Why not talk to her about them, help her learn from your experiences?"

"Dr. Crusher offered similar advice when I consulted her," Data said. "She, too, suggested I share my own struggles with Lal, but looking back, I find myself doubting whether my own early experiences apply."

"Why?" Geordi asked.

"I was alone," Data said simply. "For most of my life, the humans around me could not agree whether I was truly self-aware, or just a very sophisticated robot. Since they were so uncertain, I was as well. But, since the trial that affirmed my status as a conscious, self-determining being, that situation has changed. As my daughter, Lal is now presumed to be self-aware. By the same merit she is, by default, part of an integrated social unit that includes myself and my friends and colleagues aboard the _Enterprise_. As a result, she is already far more self-confident and socially adept than I was in the months immediately following my activation."

"Then, maybe that's it, Data," Geordi said. "Like you, Lal is intellectually brilliant but her experiences and social skills just don't match up with those of the people around her. You're both so eager to learn and make friends, but, when it comes to reading people…to picking up on all the non-verbal nuances of a conversation… That's where you struggle. You have trouble determining the 'right way' to interact with people. So, they have trouble figuring out how to interact with you."

"But Geordi," Data said, "if I share the same social shortcomings as my daughter, how can I hope to teach her to overcome them?"

"Do what any parent would do," Geordi said. "Find a tutor." He smiled. "Who knows – in a few weeks, Lal may be teaching you a thing or two."

"An encouraging thought," Data said. "Thank you, Geordi. I will follow your advice and find a qualified individual to tutor Lal in social interactions and conventions."

He paused for a moment, considering.

"Might you—" he started, but Geordi cut him off.

"No way, not me, Data. I've got more than enough on my plate already," he said, and the android nodded. "But don't think this gets you off the hook."

"Hook?" Data inquired.

"Yeah," Geordi said. "Getting Lal a tutor is no excuse not to talk with your daughter about your own troubles with social interaction. I think she should know about the experiences that helped make her father who he is. And you might benefit from her insights too."

Data nodded slowly, carefully processing the engineer's input.

"Very well," he said. "I appreciate your help in this matter, my friend."

"Hey, that's what uncles are for, right?" Geordi said. He finished off his synth-ale and stood with a sigh. "Well, I should be heading back to Engineering. Meet you here for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Certainly, Geordi," Data said. "Should I bring Lal?"

"Yeah, of course!" Geordi said. "I'll just give this glass back to Guinan. Have a good night."

Data nodded, but his expression was thoughtful.

"Guinan…"

With her vast and varied repository of experiences, and her expertise as a 'listener,' Guinan would be the perfect choice to tutor Lal. And, with Ten Forward being so busy, perhaps Guinan would appreciate Lal's assistance in return for her help.

Having determined a satisfactory course of action, Data stood and strode off to set his proposition before his daughter.

* * *

"And that is why I believe my friendship with her represents a very important step in my personal development," Data said, his eyes fixed on the special bench he had set up in Tasha's memory.

Lal stood beside him, her straight, dark hair slightly tousled by the wind.

"Then, I understand why you chose to memorialize her," she said. "I did not realize the physical aspects of love and affection were as layered and confusing as the emotional aspects. Do you believe I should apologize to Commander Riker for kissing him in Ten Forward?"

"There is no need, Lal," Data assured her. "Commander Riker has told me he understands."

She nodded, then walked over to the lichen-spotted boulder, looking out over the rose-tinted waves.

"This sunrise program is quite aesthetically crafted," she commented. "Can we come here again, Father?"

"We can come as often as you like, Lal," Data said, walking over to join her. "I have enjoyed sharing this time with you, my daughter."

"And I with you," Lal said, and gently took his hand in hers. "I find the story of your life most intriguing," she told him. "Have you been very lonely, Father?"

"I do not feel the emotion of loneliness," he said, "but I have experienced social isolation, and I have learned that I prefer congenial companionship to spending my time alone."

"As do I," Lal said. "I am pleased to have you as my father. I would not wish to grow up not knowing what I am or where I came from, as you did."

"I am pleased I can be here with you," Data said, and gave her hand a squeeze. "Come, let us sit together. My shift will not start for another hour and twenty minutes."

"Yes, Father," Lal said, and joined him on the boulder, tucking her legs under her purple skirt.

"Father?" she asked after a while. "Why don't we require sleep, as humans do?"

"Because we are not human, Lal," Data said. "Our brains and bodies may be fashioned after the human model, but the way we process and use energy is quite different."

"Ah, yes," Lal acknowledged. "Human cells use ATP to transport energy for metabolism. Android bodies do not rely on that kind of enzyme-catalyzed reaction."

Data glanced at her.

"Is this the manner in which you spoke to the children at school?"

"Yes," she said, and blinked up at him. "Why do you ask?"

"We may have to add 'informal speech' to the list of topics Guinan will be teaching you," he said.

"Yes, Father," Lal said. "Father, do you like being an android?"

Data blinked and straightened, rather caught off guard by the question.

"It is not a matter of preference," he said. "I am an android."

"But, you have placed so much importance on me learning to emulate human behaviors and speech patterns," she said. "I'm curious. If it _were_ a matter of preference, would you choose to be human instead?"

Data cast his eyes over the rippling water, considering his response carefully.

"I have been presented with such a choice," he said. "I chose to remain as I am."

"Why?"

Data smiled ever so slightly, recalling the day Commander Riker had been gifted with the power of Q, and the words he had used to decline the commander's offer to transform the android into a human being.

"'This above all, to thine own self be true,'" he said musingly.

"Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ : Act 1, Scene 3," Lal identified at once.

"Yes, Lal. Very good," her father praised. "Can you tell me what it means?"

Lal's brief look of mild satisfaction faded, and her dark brows knit in concentration. After a moment, the young android tilted her head and said, "Given the play's historical context, and the character of Polonius, the man who speaks the line in the play, I presume the meaning to be inferred is that one should place one's own welfare and self-interest first. At this point in the play, Polonius would be taking the opportunity to advise his son, Laertes, against engaging in behaviors that could damage his reputation before Laertes embarks on his trip."

"Hm!" Data jutted his lip thoughtfully. "Quite a literal interpretation, but evidencing excellent contextual, extrapolative, and analytical skills. I believe Geordi was right to rate your abilities at a college level."

"Thank you, Father," Lal said.

"I now ask you to take it a step further – beyond the play and its immediate context. Given the question you just posed, how might Shakespeare's words apply to you and me?"

Lal frowned.

"This is very difficult, Father."

"Yes," Data acknowledged. "Subjects like philosophy and metaphysics were among the most difficult I encountered at the academy. Just give it 'your best shot.' I am interested to know your views."

Lal hesitated a while longer, then said, "I believe it means…you do like being an android. And, while you acknowledge the need to conform to human social and behavioral expectations in order to pursue your career, to be true to yourself you must be true to your nature. Anything else would be self-destructive, and self-defeating."

She furrowed her brow, her head tilting in concentration.

"Is that the lesson you wished to impart, Father? That, though we must learn to acculturate ourselves into human society in order to find acceptance, we must never devalue ourselves in the process?"

Data stared at his daughter, his yellow eyes wide with something very like wonder.

"Father?" she inquired. "Father, are you all right?"

"Yes, Lal. Quite all right," Data said, and gently brushed her cheek with his hand. "If I could feel pride, I believe I would be feeling it now. You are very special."

"Father?"

"Yes, Lal?"

"May I ask a somewhat frivolous question?"

"Please do," Data invited.

Lal cocked her head, just slightly.

"What do androids do when they are not busy assimilating data or emulating humans? Or discussing the benefits and drawbacks of emulating humans?"

Data blinked.

"What do you wish to do?"

"I wish for you to teach me how to construct a castle out of stones," she said.

Data wrinkled his nose.

"A castle? But—"

"Come, Father," she said, pulling him to the far side of the boulder, where numerous loose pebbles rattled under their feet. "We can use these."

"Ah!" Data's brows shot up as understanding dawned. "You wish to engage in creative play! Intriguing!"

"First, we can build a stone castle right here," Lal said. "Then you can show me how to program a holographic castle."

"And, where would you put this castle, daughter?" Data asked, already helping her sort stones by size and color.

"Over there," she pointed, indicating a rocky outcropping all but overgrown with briars and pines. "It can have tall towers and large windows, and a lighthouse out front, like in the story the teacher read to us that day I went to school."

"So, you did benefit from that experience after all," Data mused.

"Yes, Father," Lal said. "Father?"

"Hm?"

"Why don't you read me stories?"

"I will, now that I know you are interested," Data said. "We can start with one of my favorites: Sherlock Holmes."

"I would like that," she said. "Father?"

"Yes, Lal?"

"When I am older and more socially adept, will I be going to Starfleet Academy, as you did?"

"If that is your desire."

"It is," Lal told him. "I believe I would like to be a Starfleet Officer, like you. And like Troi. Perhaps I could become a counselor, as she is."

"I am certain that you could," Data said, and meant it.

"Oh…" Lal said. "But, to be a counselor, would I not first have to know what it is to feel?"

"Lal," Data said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let us concentrate on what we are doing, here and now. The future will come soon enough."

"Very well, Father," she said, and the pair of them resumed their play.

* * *

Lal's story book-inspired castle perched majestically on the craggy cliff side, an elegant, soaring, imaginative structure of large windows and delicate turrets. Data had enjoyed creating it with her. And, now that he held her memories, he was aware just how much she had enjoyed sharing the creative experience with him.

"I'm so sorry, Data," Counselor Troi said, her voice even softer than usual. "Did you two come here often?"

"No," Data said. "I only thought to share this program with her the night before Admiral Haftel arrived. We had time to build this," he gestured to a little stone castle about waist high that stood beside the large, lichen-spotted boulder, "and to design that larger castle and lighthouse together. But then, I had to leave for my bridge shift, and she to help Guinan with the breakfast rush in Ten Forward. Counselor…"

The android turned to her, his golden eyes oddly tight.

"Could I have missed something? Some deviation in her behavior patterns that may have indicated—"

"Data… Data, stop, don't do this," the counselor said, taking him by the arm. "Lal's system failure was not your fault. If anything, it was triggered by stress…the fear that she would be taken away from you, and her home aboard the _Enterprise_."

"I did not expect her positronic matrix to be so fragile," Data said, staring at the castle. "I should not have allowed the admiral to interview her without me present."

Troi lowered her head.

"Data," she said. "You have Lal's memories now. Did she blame you for her malfunction?"

"Not at all, Counselor," Data said.

"Then, do you think it's fair to her to blame yourself?"

"No," Data acknowledged. He pulled away from her gentle grip and strode along the narrow dirt path to the castle door.

Deanna followed, watching from a polite distance as the android brushed his fingers over a small plaque affixed to the stone wall. She could just make out the lettering:

Lal

Treasured Daughter

2366

"Data…?"

"Lal was proud of this structure, Counselor," he told her. "I believe I will save this program, just as it is. Perhaps, someday, I will encounter another special someone to share it with."

Deanna's concern faded, and a warm, friendly affection for the android took its place.

"'Special someone,'" she repeated. "I like that Data."

Data nodded once, and lifted his eyes to the sky.

"Computer," he called out. "End program, and save to external disk."

 _To Be Continued…_

 _References include Shakespeare's Hamlet; TNG: The Offspring, Hide and Q; life with NVLD..._

 _Until next time, thanks so much for reading! Your reviews and opinions are always deeply appreciated! :)_


	4. Misinterpretations

**3\. Misinterpretations**

"What is it?" she asked.

"My first true abstract," Data responded, his eyes fixed on the canvas. "Since our interaction on the bridge this morning, I have found myself somewhat…preoccupied…by thoughts of your form, your grace of movement, your strength of character. This is the result."

He looked at her, his manner oddly hesitant as he asked, "What do you think?"

Ishara seemed off balance, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. She stared from the android to the painting, then back at the android.

"I've never seen anything like this before," she said, her voice rough. "Is this really how you see me, Data?"

Data cocked his head.

"No. This is not a representation of your actual physical appearance," he said, slightly puzzled. "It is merely an interpretation of—"

"No, that's not what I meant," she interrupted, her fingers reaching out to rest against his arm. "I'm just saying, it's amazing. I mean…this is really _art_."

The android's hesitation faded and, for a moment, his expression seemed to glow.

"Thank you," he said.

"Do you paint pictures of all your friends?" she asked him.

"No," Data told her. "Until now, I have mostly painted simple patterns and space phenomena. Recently, I have begun to attempt some basic still life and landscapes."

Ishara nodded slightly, and stepped away, looking over his quarters. She paused at his potted plants, the shelf where he kept his violin and Sherlock Holmes props, the stylized metal representation of a solar system hanging on the wall behind his couch…

"I like this place," she said. "It's really clean. Uncluttered." She smiled. "It suits you."

"I am pleased you approve," he told her. "I have tried to make it less…Spartan."

"Do you play this…what is this?" she indicated his violin.

"It is a violin," he said, striding over to lift it and its bow from its velvet-lined case so she could get a better look. "And yes. Would you like me to demonstrate?"

"No, it's OK," she said. "Maybe later."

Data nodded and gently replaced the instrument on the shelf.

"Ishara," he said, carefully observing her face. "Are you all right? You seem…subdued."

"I'm not. I'm fine," she asserted. But, when he didn't look away, she blurted, "It's just…you can do so many things. All this art and music and science. I just… Why would someone like you even want to be friends with a tunnel rat like me?"

Data lowered his eyes, her manner and expression again reminding him sharply of her sister, Tasha Yar.

"I do not understand," he responded quietly, aware he was speaking as much to Ishara as to the powerful memories she had provoked. "How could a woman as strong and as vibrant as you ever doubt her own value?"

He blinked and straightened, then reached for her hand.

"Ishara, would you do me the honor of joining me for breakfast tomorrow morning?"

Ishara glanced at his hand clasping hers, then at the earnest expression on his face, more than a little confused by the sudden invitation.

"Well…sure, Data," she said. "Would we be meeting in Ten Forward again?"

"No," he said. "I will 'drop by' your quarters. There is something very special I wish to share with you."

She cocked an eyebrow, her expression turning suspicious.

"Oh yeah?" she said. "What kind of something?"

"A holodeck program I designed, years ago, depicting a sunrise on Earth," he said, completely oblivious to any undercurrent in her tone. "I created it for Tasha and for Geordi. We shared several morning picnics there together. Before we embark on our mission tomorrow, Ishara, I would like to share a similar experience with you."

"Ah," she said, feeling rather stupid for suspecting the android's offer would be anything other than platonic.

"Will you come?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "I'd like to see the holodeck."

Data's expression brightened noticeably.

"Excellent," he said. "I will 'pick you up' at 0520."

Ishara smiled at him, then stepped forward and pecked his cheek, as she had on the bridge earlier that day. He stood very still, blinking, and she could tell he was struggling to interpret her actions. Somehow, that only made her want to tease him again.

"Thanks, Data," she said.

He stared at her.

"For what?"

But she just shook her head, and squeezed his arm.

"Never mind. Well, if I'm going to be awake for the sunrise, I'd better get some sleep. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," he said, and watched as she strode out of his quarters.

* * *

Ishara stared out at the rose-gold clouds, then turned her eyes to Tasha's memorial bench and the roses that entwined its back and sides, her head resting comfortably against Data's shoulder as she picked the chocolate out of her croissant.

"This pastry thing is really good," she said. "And this place! It's so beautiful here, Data."

"Yes," he agreed. "It has been a long time since I felt it…appropriate…to run this particular program. I am pleased you like it."

It had been dark when they'd first entered the holodeck. Data had picked up a large, woven basket and carried it to a lichen-spotted boulder, already spread with a soft, red and white checked blanket weighed down at the corners with stones to keep it from blowing away. Before he'd unpacked their picnic, though, he had taken Ishara's hand and shown her the memorial he had created for Tasha, and the startling castle he'd once designed with his daughter – an android he'd called Lal that had suffered a fatal malfunction about a year ago. Data had seemed notably somber during the tour, yet upbeat, even hopeful as he had led her back to their picnic site, already bathed in soft, golden light.

"To friendship," he'd said, clinking his coffee mug against hers. "And new beginnings."

Ishara knew his mannerisms had to be a simulation, that the android sitting beside her was no more a real, feeling person than this little island park was a real place. He'd as much as said so himself when he'd admitted to her that he didn't have the capacity to experience emotions.

And yet, every action, every facial expression seemed to contradict his statements. She didn't believe he was consciously lying, to her or to himself. But still…

If he didn't have feelings, why bother to construct another android, let alone consider it a 'daughter'? Why design a memorial for a dead woman he'd known for less than a year?

Why go out of his way to spend time with that dead woman's sister, or appear so pleased when she called him her friend?

Talking with Data had seemed like a game at first. He had been so quick and open with his responses, it had been a snap to get in close to the _Enterprise_ crew without giving away any of her own secrets. He had paved the way for her, supported her story at every step, even found a way to safely deactivate and remove the implanted proximity detector that had threatened to unravel her mission from the start. All that, for what? A few smiles, a couple of quiet talks, a quick peck on the cheek? She'd barely so much as held his hand, and already he harbored dreams of forging some kind of lasting relationship, helping her through the academy, working side by side…

How gullible could a person be?

Yet, Ishara was starting to suspect there was more to this peculiar android than circuits and programming, even if he couldn't see it for himself; something that made her believe the face he'd been sharing with her was subtly different from the face he presented to the rest of the crew. There was a depth to this machine, a sensitive, caring core that her link with Tasha had allowed Ishara to access from the start…and to manipulate. If she had truly been a stranger, she suspected she never could have gotten in so close, so quickly. But for the sister of his close and trusted friend, a friend he professed to miss every day, the android had dropped all defenses, lowered all shields...and he hadn't even known he was doing it.

It was a rather satisfying realization…to know the influence she held over this powerful and talented cybernetic device. To understand she could probably get him to do anything for her, as long as her act didn't slip.

She wondered if her sister had felt that too. If Tasha had managed to take the advantage…

Ishara sighed, and finished her croissant and coffee. If only she had more time.

"Data…" she said, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the sloshing waves and calling birds. "If you knew this was your last morning – your very last morning… What would you do?"

Data scooted over slightly so he could look her in the eye.

"Ishara," he said, "if you are concerned about our mission to rescue the kidnapped crewmen, I assure you: Worf, Commander Riker, Commander La Forge and I will do all in our power to ensure your safety. We do not want to lose you."

"Thanks," she said. "But, that's not what I mean, Data."

"Then…I do not understand," he said.

"Suppose," she said. "Just suppose. Say, I didn't plan to stay on this ship. That this really was the only time we had to spend together. What would you want to do?"

Data blinked a few times, struggling to process her questions.

"I…"

"Would you alter your special program for me?"

Data regarded her curiously.

"Alter it how?"

Ishara moved in closer, watching the tiny, puzzled microexpressions crease his white-gold face.

"I've never seen the ocean," she said. "Not really. But, I've seen old ads, you know? I remember, long ago, there was this…this tattered travel poster in a broken window. It showed a man and a woman in bathing suits riding these 'jet ski' things through the water." She smiled a small, distant smile. "I used to dream about doing that. When things got real bad down on the colony…when our cadre was low on food, and… Well, I'd close my eyes and just…go there, you know? Go to that place, with the sun and the sea and those jet skis, and I'd just ride…"

She sat up and touched his arm, her eyes wide.

"Data," she said, "what do you say? Could we do something like that, right here? Is that possible?"

"Certainly," Data said, and stood, politely helping her clamber down from the boulder after him.

"It wouldn't be…you know…an imposition? This is _your_ program, after all..."

"Ishara," Data said, taking her hand in his. "I designed this setting to share with my friends. Your valued input could only enhance the program."

Ishara's smile broadened, and she gave his hand a squeeze.

"Then, I want you to put a dock, right over there," she pointed to a sheltered little cove in full view of the bench, the boulder, and the towering castle. "And two jet skis. Blue ones. And some steps, so we don't have to climb down this brambly cliff to get to the beach."

"Consider it done," Data said, and called for the arch, his pale fingers flying over the controls as he translated her spoken wishes into solid, if holographic, reality.

Ishara stared in amazement at the altered landscape, then grabbed his arm and pulled him after her down the steps to the dock.

"Come on, Data," she said. "If I'm going to do this, you're going to do it with me. How do you drive one of these jet ski things, anyway?"

* * *

Ishara laughed as she and Data climbed back onto the blanket-covered boulder, allowing the sea breeze and warm, morning sun to dry their hair and clothes.

"Wow," she said, staring up at the clouds. "We sure scared the crap out of those sea gulls with our jet skis! I never imagined it was even possible to have so much fun! The colony is so enclosed, so dark… A place like this…it just doesn't seem real. Nothing has, since I came on board. Not even you."

She sat up and regarded the android, almost as if she were seeing him for the first time.

"I really mean it, Data," she said. "I've never known anyone like you."

Data seemed to shrug, his neatly swept-back hair still a little damp from their jet skiing adventure through the golden waves.

"Your observations are correct," he said. "This place is not real. And, in a sense, I am not 'real' either, since I am an artificial construct."

Ishara frowned.

"There you go again," she said. "How can you say you're not real, that you don't _feel_ anything, when I know for a fact you are the single most trusting man in this whole damn quadrant?"

"It is encouraging to hear you say that, Ishara," Data said, raising his eyes to her face. "Tasha, too, often referred to me as a 'man.' But, that is a term specific to humans and, as you know, I am a machine. Perhaps—"

Ishara had been staring at him with a strange, almost angry intensity while he spoke. Now, she interrupted his words by leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

He pulled back as if stung, his eyes wide and startled.

"Ishara?"

But, she leaned in again, kissing his cheek, then his forehead before sitting back.

Data stared intently into her eyes, as if trying to read something printed deep in her retinas, on the contours of her face. She met him stare for stare until, slowly, he leaned in and brushed her lips in careful imitation of her earlier movements. He started to draw back, curious and uncertain, but she rose to her knees and deepened the kiss, watching his golden eyes close as their arms entwined. As the kissing went on, she felt his breathing start to quicken, his fingers slowly sliding up to tangle in her hair…

She broke away and jumped off the boulder, taking in a deep, steadying breath as she looked out to sea.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, you're definitely a man. Look, Data… We'll be expected on the bridge soon. I have to go."

"Ishara…? No, please, allow me to explain," Data said, climbing off the boulder to join her.

"Explain what?" she asked.

"That I am sorry," he said, his expression sincere and oddly delicate. "Although I am...fully functional...my experience in these matters is limited, and I apologize if I misread your intent. My actions were meant only to assure you that…I do not object to the gestures of affection you have offered me. Although we have only known each other a short time, you have become very special to me, Ishara. I have come to anticipate, and appreciate, your unique input. Ishara…" He gently took her hand. "I would appreciate it if you did not leave quite yet."

Ishara stared at their joined hands and swallowed, hard.

"Oh, Data…"

She shook her head, then dropped his hand to brush her fingers against his cheek.

"You're the special one, Data. Not me. That's why..." She sighed and pursed her lips. "You really should be more careful."

"I told you before, Ishara, I do not intend to lose you," he said, misinterpreting her warning, as she knew he would. "My friends and I are pledged to do all in our power to keep you safe during our mission today. But, even if it were not our duty to protect you… There are so many fascinating things I wish to show you, to share with you…and so much you can teach me. I greatly anticipate helping you build a new life with us, aboard the _Enterprise_ …so much so, that I find myself wishing the mission were already over, so we could look forward to spending many more mornings in each other's company."

Ishara struggled to avoid his intense golden gaze, her eyes darting around a landscape no longer soft and dreamy, but sharp and bright, the smells and sounds as real as the pulse she felt throbbing in the android's wrist.

"How many people have you brought here, Data?" she asked.

"Only Tasha and Geordi," he said. "My daughter, Lal. Counselor Troi accompanied me once, shortly after Lal's death. And now, you."

She nodded slowly.

"Then…this really is a special place for you, isn't it. Like…like a piece of yourself you just couldn't work out how to share any other way. And I…"

She stared at the dock, the jet skis, and they seemed intrusive, a blot of violent discord on an otherwise harmonious scene.

"I ruined it, didn't I."

Data wrinkled his nose.

"No, Ishara. The jet skis are a fine addition. You have introduced me to a new way of experiencing this program, of interacting with you and with the water, and I am pleased you enjoyed our time together. I do not understand why you would make such a comment."

"No… No, you wouldn't."

Ishara looked away, no longer able to meet his eyes. The machine…the toy…was gone, and so was the illusion. Suddenly, the man before her was all too real...and so were her traitor emotions...

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry. I can't stay here. I have to…have to get ready…"

Data blinked, his expression tight with confusion and concern.

"I can walk with you to your quarters if—"

"No," she said. "No, it's all right. Thank you for this morning, Data. For breakfast and the jet skis and…and for talking with me. I really…I've never known anything like this. I'll see you on the bridge, OK?"

"Very well, Ishara. Computer, save program and exit."

The rocky park faded, revealing the cube-shaped holodeck grid of black squares and yellow lines. Ishara headed for the heavy double doors, then turned back and pulled Data into a fierce embrace.

"I wish I could be the friend you deserve," she muffled against his neck.

"Ishara," he said gently. "You already are."

She stared at him, her mouth working slightly, her head seeming to tremble. She let him go and strode away without another word.

* * *

Data sat on the bench he had set up in Tasha's memory. He had been sitting there for several minutes, allowing his mind to replay every interaction he had shared with Ishara Yar from the moment she had first materialized aboard the _Enterprise_.

"Lies," he stated, staring out at the distant horizon. "It was all a lie."

The proximity detector Ishara had given him to remember her by was in his hand, as it had been since he left Commander Riker's quarters. He felt it pressing against his palm, smooth and flat and warm. Holding it close, he stood and walked forward, down the steps and across the slender strip of beach to the very end of the dock.

For a moment, he considered tossing the small device into the waves. Instead, his fist tightened around it, and he strode back to shore, turning his eyes to the sky.

"Computer," he said. "Delete dock and jet skis."

They faded in a slight shimmer of energy. Data stared at the place they had been, then climbed back up to the top of the cliff.

"Delete steps," he commanded.

The steps disappeared, leaving only a craggy, brambly rockface.

"Computer, save program to external disk, and discontinue."

His imaginary island faded to black, and Data strode across the holodeck's softly glowing grid to the access panel near the door. He transferred the tiny data disk that contained the program to a waiting isolinear chip, and held both the chip and the proximity detector in his fist.

One squeeze, with just the right amount of pressure, and they would both be nothing more than splinters.

But, Data didn't squeeze his fist. He didn't move at all. He just stood there, in the empty holodeck, staring blankly into space.

Data had pursued a false social connection that had ended in betrayal, much as he had with his devious brother, Lore. Yet, instead of learning from that mistake, he had again chosen to put his trust in a stranger without due consideration, and by doing so had proven himself vulnerable to her misdirection. Her manipulation.

If not for his inexcusable gullibility, Ishara would never have come as close as she did to completing her real mission: destroying her rival cadre, and herself in the process. Becoming a martyr for her thuggish gang. It was sheer good fortune Data had managed to track her down in time, to stop her before it was too late. To save the thousands of lives she would have ended without a second thought.

Including Commander Riker's...and his own.

Well, two such grievous errors were quite enough, and Data was resolved he would not make such a mistake a third time. Geordi kept telling him to trust himself, but Geordi did not understand what it meant to operate outside a shared emotional context, to continually wonder if his interpretations were accurate or skewed by his own non-human status.

If his lack of social acumen made him vulnerable to deceit, if his judgment had proven unreliable, he would design a program to more accurately guide his responses. To scan and interpret non-verbal signals for him, to ensure he never again misinterpreted another being's intent, never allowed his social shortcomings to endanger another mission.

He was an android, after all. A machine, not a man. It was irrational for one such as him to harbor the illusion that a human woman could consider him her special someone. Why else would Tasha have insisted 'it never happened' the moment she regained her faculties following their infection by the polywater intoxicant that had brought them so briefly together so many years ago? Why else would a skilled con artist like Ishara have chosen _him_ as her mark, her target, rather than a savvy human like Commander Riker?

Data initiated a deep self-diagnostic and marched out of the holodeck, already framing the parameters of his new behavioral program as he headed for his quarters.

 _To Be Continued..._

 _References include TNG: Legacy; The Offspring; The Naked Now; Datalore; Tin Man._

 _Thanks so much for your very encouraging reviews! This chapter was really, really challenging to write, but I hope you like how it turned out! I think there may be two, or maybe three more parts to this story. Stay tuned! :)_


	5. Firewall

**4\. Firewall**

"So, Data," Commander Riker teased, his beard failing to hide his smirk as he set his drink down and straddled the chair across from the android. "How's it going with Lt. D'Sora? I hear you two have become quite the item."

Data lowered his padd to the softly glowing table and gave the commander his attention.

"Ship's gossip notwithstanding," he said – rather primly, Riker thought, "it is true that, largely on the strength of your advice, I decided to 'follow' Jenna's 'lead' in this matter. I, therefore, indicated to her that I would not find pursuing a romantic affiliation to be entirely inappropriate at this time. She concurred, and we both agreed to formalize our relationship."

Riker quirked an eyebrow.

"And in plain English, Data…?"

The android regarded him.

"Sir? Would you rather I spoke in English instead of Federation Standard?" he asked confusedly. "If so, it would be helpful if you could please specify whether you would prefer I employed one of Earth's regional dialects or one of the colonial variations that—"

"No, Data, it's just an expression," Riker said, holding up his hands. "Standard is fine. I just want to know how you're doing, that's all."

"Ah," Data acknowledged. "I am fine, thank you. All programs are operating within established parameters."

"Good," Riker said. "Great to know. And Jenna?"

"She is also well."

"That's it?" Riker joked. "Just 'well'?"

Data's golden eyes flickered to the side, then down to his padd, before returning to Riker. It was just a split-second flash of movement, barely noticeable, but it triggered Riker's concern.

"Data?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No, sir. As I said, we are fine."

"Fine," Riker repeated grimly, and took a sip of his drink. "Look, I know I encouraged you to go for this, but if something's not right you can tell me. Are _you_ happy pursuing this relationship?"

"I cannot feel happiness," the android stated, looking directly at him.

Riker rolled his eyes slightly, and grabbed his glass.

"All right," he said, starting to get up. "Data, I'm sorry I bothered you. Just know, if you ever do want to talk, I—"

"Commander…"

Data's voice was oddly quiet. Riker frowned and sat back down.

Data's pale face remained entirely blank as he spoke.

"Please understand: I am not trying to block or avoid your conversation, and I apologize if that is how you perceived my responses," he said. "I am merely telling the truth. I cannot feel happiness or love. Nor am I capable of feeling pleasure, desire, or pain. As long as that is the case, I do not believe it is possible for Jenna and myself to experience the close emotional connection you endorsed."

"Then why pursue the relationship?" Riker asked. " _She_ kissed _you_ , after all. You had every right to tell her you'd prefer to stay 'just friends'."

"It is because I would like to preserve our friendship that I agreed," Data said.

"OK, you lost me now," Riker said. "Jenna's made it clear she _wants_ to get romantic with you. You say you _can't_ get romantic with her. Yet, you think leading her on will somehow preserve your friendship?"

"I have no intention of 'leading her' anywhere," Data said. "I have been, and will continue to be, entirely honest with her regarding my abilities and my shortcomings. In fact, I have developed a special subroutine for the behavioral program I designed to guide my responses in social situations – a 'program within a program,' if you will – tailored specifically to process and interpret Jenna's unique input."

Riker frowned.

"Wait…you have a program for that?"

"I do," Data said.

"Since when?"

"Since stardate 442—"

Riker waved him off.

"And Jenna's OK with this?" he demanded.

Data shrugged his eyebrows.

"She seemed quite flattered when I informed her."

Riker shook his head, not quite sure what to make of what he was hearing.

"Data… Do you do this with everyone you meet? Write programs to interpret their individual input, then act accordingly? Are you doing that with me right now?"

"No," Data said. "Not entirely. Jenna is a special case. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, Data," Riker said. "It just seems…a little cold to me."

"Cold?" Data inquired.

"Yes," Riker said. "Cold. False. Fabricated."

Data furrowed his brow.

"I do not understand."

Riker sighed.

"Data," he said, "people don't like to think that their overtures of friendship – that the experiences and thoughts they share with others – are being met with, well, pre-programmed responses. I always thought you strove to be more than that."

Data blinked.

"I do."

"Then what's with this new behavioral program?"

Data's lips tightened and he averted his eyes, looking pointedly at the starscape beyond Ten Forward's sweeping transparent aluminum windows.

"I designed and implemented the program because I have been proven vulnerable," the android admitted, his voice undeniably tight. "My inability to _read_ other beings, my lack of intuition, emotion, even basic empathy, has repeatedly allowed dangerous and unstable individuals to play on my 'handicap,' if you will, to infiltrate and endanger this crew. The behavioral program I designed is, therefore, as much for your protection and the protection of the ship as it is for my own."

"You're talking about individuals like who? Like Lore?" Riker prompted.

"That is correct."

"And like Ishara Yar?" he pressed further, the significance of the stardate Data had mentioned suddenly clicking into place.

Data shifted slightly in his chair.

"It would be highly irresponsible of me to continue to allow my social and emotional shortcomings to endanger our ship, and my friends, without installing precautionary measures to compensate," the android stated flatly.

Riker sighed through his nose, feeling a deep and tangled milieu taking shape between them. The question was how to navigate it without pushing the android even deeper into self-doubt.

The commander shook his head. Who knew an android who professed to have no feelings could be so sensitive, or so easily, and profoundly, hurt?

"Data…" he tried, then sighed again. "Have you talked to Deanna about this?"

"No," Data said. "What would be the reason? This is a matter of programming and system maintenance."

"Have you talked to Geordi, then?"

"No," the android repeated. "Again, I saw no reason. My functions are not impaired. If anything, this behavioral program is designed to enhance performance."

"Right," Riker said, and pursed his lips. "Look. What I'm hearing from you… It sounds to me like this program of yours… It's like you're putting up a firewall to guard your systems against…well…against us."

"I do not believe that to be the case," the android stated.

"All right," Riker said. "Then, why don't you explain it to me. Just what do you expect to gain from this program? How do _you_ see this playing out between you and Lt. D'Sora?"

Data lowered his eyes again, his thumbs twiddling against his folded fingers. Riker wondered, as he often did, whether that little twitch was one of Data's practiced human affectations, like yawning or sneezing, or something he didn't consciously control.

"My primary aim is to guide our relationship toward a mutually beneficial outcome," Data said after a brief, contemplative pause.

"And what exactly does that mean?" Riker pressed. "In plain, Federation Standard."

Data stopped twiddling his thumbs and lowered his folded hands to his lap.

"Although you quite fervently advised me to pursue this relationship," he said, "Geordi and Counselor Troi presented me with differing, though mutually cautionary, perspectives. It was this advice, that I should proceed only with due care, that most closely matched the conclusions presented by my behavioral program."

"Yet, you went with my advice?" Riker asked.

"As Geordi pointed out, Jenna came to me in the wake of a 'bad situation,'" Data said. "Although she initiated the 'break-up' with her former boyfriend, the experience has shaken her confidence in herself and in her self-perceived value as a romantic partner. If she turned to me 'on the rebound,' it is not necessarily because she is genuinely in love with me. Numerous related case studies, novels, plays, holodramas, popular songs, and so on, as well as past experience, strongly suggest it is far more likely that she views me as someone 'safe;' a friend she can lean on for moral support while she reconstructs her self-image. Given the situation, I cannot, therefore, trust that she truly wishes to establish a sustainable romantic relationship with me. After all, I am an android, not a man, and Jenna is fully aware that I am incapable of returning any romantic feelings."

"Then, you agreed to pursue this relationship to…what? To prop up her ego?"

Data tilted his head, considering.

"Perhaps, to some extent," he acknowledged. "But I believe it is also in my own interest to proceed."

"How so?" Riker asked.

"As I said before, my priority is to preserve my friendship with Jenna, as well as our working relationship," Data explained. "It is with that goal in mind that I designed and tailored my behavioral subroutine to help guide my responses to her largely nonverbal communicative cues – cues that all too often contradict her words and even her actions. It is my hope that this subroutine will prevent me from inadvertently misreading her intentions and, thereby, unintentionally angering or hurting her, until she comes to understand that she does not love me and agrees to resume our friendship as it previously stood. In the meantime, by initiating this relationship, Jenna has offered me a rare opportunity to gain valuable behavioral insights into human romantic roles, practices and customs."

Riker frowned.

"Then, in your view, by allowing this behavioral program of yours to lead your responses in this relationship, she gets to rebuild her self-image in a safe environment and you get to experiment with romantic stereotypes? And, once she realizes she really doesn't need you to prop her up, everything between you will just go back to the way it used to be?"

"In a sense," Data allowed, looking slightly confused.

Riker sucked in his cheek and shook his head.

"It all sounds pretty rational, doesn't it," he said. "But feelings just don't work that way. I'm telling you, Data, this program is more of a minefield than you know. All walls have two sides, even firewalls. If you use this 'nonverbal-behavior-interpreting' program to keep yourself on one side and Jenna on the other… Well…you can't expect you'll both walk away unhurt."

"My intent is only to help Jenna regain her confidence," Data asserted, his eyes wide and sincere.

"Then, Data," Riker said, "maybe you should consider working on restoring your own self-confidence before you offer yourself as a prop for others."

Data's expression fell from puzzled to woefully confused.

"My…? But, Commander—"

"Data, don't start with the denials – you wrote yourself a human behavior-interpreting program for God's sake, not to mention a little sub-program specifically for Jenna! Clearly you don't trust yourself in this type of social arena, or your ability to navigate this relationship on your own. Now, I'm not sure if Jenna's the woman to help you here – she's very bright, but she is in a vulnerable place and word is she tends to be rather…emotionally demanding…of the men she's with. But a healthy relationship – romantic or otherwise – has to take the needs of both parties into consideration. If you want to help her overcome her shortcomings, you'll have to be willing to let her help you tackle yours. _Without_ that protective firewall between you. Do you understand me, Data?"

"I am…not certain," Data said, his expression intense and disconcerted. "I will need time to consider your words."

"You do that," Riker said, and stood. "Good luck, Data," he said. "I really mean that."

"Thank you, Commander," Data said, but his tone was distracted. He picked up his padd as Riker strode away, but soon put it down again and turned to stare out the window, replaying his recent interactions with Jenna from the context of this new perspective the commander had offered…particularly their last meeting in her quarters. Jenna had asked him to kiss her and he had complied, but when she'd asked him what he was thinking his honest, if somewhat lengthy, reply had seemed to upset her.

"I'm glad I was in there somewhere," she'd said, yet despite her words, he was now certain he had caught something...else...in her voice, her eyes…

But, his program had assured him human women statistically stated a preference for honesty over polite fictions when asking personal questions of their significant others.

Unless…

Could her query have called for a less literal response? Might her intent have been less overt - shielded by her words rather than revealed by them? Was it possible that, with that seemingly innocuous question, Jenna had been seeking, not to know his thoughts, but to ask if she was special to him?

As Tasha had been. Even, Ishara…

Data dropped his gaze to the table, his forehead creased in thought.

Commander Riker had been correct about Data's reaction to Ishara's betrayal: he had not been prepared for that blow, and it had hit him much harder than anyone had expected...particularly, Data himself. But, was Commander Riker correct now? Had Data allowed his behavioral program to govern his responses to Jenna, not to protect her from inadvertent injury, but to protect himself? Was the program itself a symptom of a lack of confidence, of trust in his own abilities, his own judgment?

Could he have made a mistake? Had his negative experiences with Lore, Ishara…even with Tasha's denial…have precluded him from allowing Jenna the benefit of the doubt? Why _had_ he been so quick to dismiss the possibility that Jenna could feel more than simple affection for him? That she might actually view him as…

Special.

There were too many questions, too many variables for Data to find any reliably valid solution to this twisted Gordian knot of a puzzle. If Riker was right in his assertions, it was quite possible Data had wronged Jenna, even hurt her, by erecting this programmatic wall between them; a wall he had only strengthened as their relationship had progressed. If that was so, it was likely he was missing out on a valuable social connection, a shared bond of trust and mutual affection he had attempted before but – most discouragingly – never managed to sustain for any significant length of time.

Then again…what if his initial assessment of the situation was the correct one? That, to Jenna, he was more 'safe' than truly 'special'? If he deactivated his 'firewall' only to find that she—

A thought struck him, and Data's shoulders straightened. There was a way to test Riker's hypothesis, and his own. If his plan worked out, perhaps…

Perhaps, he might risk inviting Jenna to share his sunrise program with him. If it turned out that she did truly care for him, that she honesty wished to assist him in his quest to comprehend, even share in, the human condition, her input would certainly only enrich the program…a program he had feared permanently tainted following Ishara's betrayal…

Data grabbed his padd, stood, and strode from Ten Forward across the hall to the turbolift.

"Deck Two," he ordered, then tapped his combadge. "Data to Lt. D'Sora."

"D'Sora here," came Jenna's voice.

"Jenna," Data said, indicating by his use of her first name that this was to be an informal conversation, "Would you be free to share dinner with me tonight?"

"Dinner? Yeah. Yeah, sure, Data," Jenna said. "I'm off at six. But...um...yeah, I'm sure you know that. Should we meet at my place?"

"No," Data said. "Tonight, I would appreciate the opportunity to host our rendezvous. Would you meet me in my quarters at 1830 hours?"

"Sure. OK. Your quarters. That's great Data. It's...it's just great. I need to... We need to talk anyway..."

"That would be acceptable," Data said, encouraged by the fact she had so easily agreed to his proposal to change their usual routine. "There is something I believe I would like to discuss with you as well. I will look forward to our meeting."

"Yeah. I'll see you then, Data. D'Sora out."

* * *

"Well, Spot," Data said, peering out at the white-capped waves from the catwalk of the lighthouse he and his daughter had designed...it seemed so long ago now. "It appears my initial premise regarding Jenna was valid after all. I was only ever her 'safe' someone. Never her 'special' someone. And now that she no longer requires my support as a partner, we are once again 'just friends.' A positive resolution overall, would you not agree?"

"Mrew," Spot responded and slid back inside, out of the wind. Data followed the reddish cat down the twirling staircase and out onto the rocks. There, he swept the cat into his arms and carried him up to the main island, past Lal's soaring castle to the lichen-spotted boulder by Tasha's bench.

"And yet," he mused as he walked, "I must admit to a sense of...disappointment...at the way things turned out. I had anticipated such a pleasant evening. I very carefully chose the lighting, decor and menu with Jenna's tastes in mind...and yet, she did not stay long enough to share the meal. I do not even know if she realized I deactivated my behavioral program before she arrived. The entire program, not merely the subroutine designed to interpret her input which, as you know, Spot, I have since erased."

He climbed onto the boulder and stared up at a pair of terns swooping through the rose-gold sky. After a moment, he gracefully lowered himself into a cross-legged position, attempting to settle the restive cat in his lap.

"Come now, sit nicely," Data said. After a slight, half-hearted attempt to slink out of the android's grasp, Spot seemed to reconsider his escape and instead curled up against Data's leg, purring as the android gently stroked his warm, soft fur.

"Thank you, Spot. For staying with me," the android said. "I believe it is good that I can share this program with you. Perhaps I shall compose a poem for you. An Ode to Spot. Would you like that, my friend?"

The cat continued to purr, his golden eyes closing as Data rubbed his ears.

"Yes, I can tell you like that. You are a good cat, Spot. A very good cat."

Spot shifted position, climbing up Data's middle to snuggle against his chest. Data gathered the cat up in his arms and touched his pale nose to Spot's pink one, looking him straight in the eyes. The cat licked his face, and Data held him close, rubbing the feline's head.

"There really is a _you_ in there, Spot, is there not," Data observed, looking into the cat's face. "You have a personality, an identity, all your own, and that should be recognized. Even celebrated. How about this," the android said, and began to compose: " _Felis catus_ is your taxonomic nomenclature."

"Mew?"

"Yes, that is correct," Data assured him. "To continue: you are an endothermic quadruped, carnivorous by nature."

"Mew..."

"Yes, Spot, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from interrupting. I can assure you, these facts are reliable. I did specialize in exobiology at the academy."

"Mew..."

"Thank you. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming. Now, where were we... Ah: Your visual, olfactory and auditory senses contribute to your hunting skills and natural defenses."

Spot pressed his head against Data's shoulder and started up a thrumming purr. Data stroked the cat's lean back and rested his head gently against Spot's, feeling the vibrations from the purr and the thumping of Spot's regular heartbeat resonate through him...a most agreeable, even comforting, sensation.

"I find myself intrigued by your subvocal oscillations," he said softly. "A singular development of cat communications that obviates your basic hedonistic predilection for a rhythmic stroking of your fur, to demonstrate affection."

Spot's purring deepened, and Data briefly buried his nose in the cat's warm fur.

"So, you like that part," he said. "All right, then. We will keep it in. Spot?"

"Mrew..."

"You are my very special cat, Spot. I want you to know that. Now, to the third verse. Would you like to hear the third verse, Spot? So would I. What should it be..."

 _To Be Continued..._

 _References include TNG: In Theory; Legacy; Peak Performance; The Naked Now; Datalore; Brothers; Phantasms; Force of Nature; Schisms._

 _I'm still not sure what should happen next...whether this will have two more chapters or just one. Maybe one. I'll keep thinking. Your opinions and comments are always welcome! I hope you liked this chapter. Thank you so much for your reviews! :)_


	6. Locks and Keys, Part I: Locks

**5\. Locks and Keys, Part I: Locks  
**

 _Kiss me once and kiss me twice  
Then kiss me once again  
It's been a long, long time  
Haven't felt like this, my dear  
Since I can't remember when  
It's been a long, long time…_

Ensign Natalie Soong stopped short halfway down the ramp from the turbolift, feeling her back tense up with a growing sense of mortification. Surreptitiously, she glanced around the bustling bridge, wondering if anyone else was hearing what she was hearing.

 _You'll never know how many dreams  
I've dreamed about you  
Or just how empty they all seemed without you  
So kiss me once, then kiss me twice  
Then kiss me once again  
It's been a long, long time…_

Her father's first officer, Commander Akira Kinoshita, stood by the tactical station, talking over the new security training schedule with Lt. Commander Devna, the _Enterprise-_ G's Orion security chief. Rudy Rudo was up from main engineering, hard at work at the computer terminal on the upper bridge. They and the half-dozen other busy bridge officers seemed entirely oblivious to the sounds of singing emanating from Commodore Data's briefing room.

Only the Vulcan Operations Officer, Lt. Commander Asil, met the young android's bemused stare. She could only hold the ensign's eyes for a moment, though, before turning her head to stifle her surge of amusement with a brief, strangled cough.

Natty hurried to her side.

"Aunt Asil, tell me he's not…" Natty whispered.

"Oh, he is," Asil confirmed, her eyes fixed on her console.

"Good grief…" Natty pressed her hand to her lips. "He's _crooning_? In the _briefing room_?"

"Only for the past four point one nine minutes," Asil said.

Natty winced, glancing at the doors to her father's office.

"Guitar and all?"

"Indeed. He has also been whistling and tapping his fingers," Asil informed her, her twinkling eyes belying her dead-serious expression. "But don't worry – human hearing is not nearly as acute as that of Vulcans—"

"Or androids," Commodore Data said, leaning against his office doorway with his arms crossed and a wry expression on his face.

"Dad!" Natty gasped. "But you were just—"

"Singing?" Data quirked an amused eyebrow. "My ship, Ensign. Call it Commodore's Prerogative. But, so you don't come to think your father is a complete eccentric, I was just recalling an old holodeck program I developed for some friends of mine, long, long ago. The memories made me a little…sentimental. Hence, the music. And, speaking of sentiment…"

He strode forward and pulled his daughter into a warm embrace.

"Welcome home, Natty! We've missed you."

"Dad…!" the young android protested, wriggling out of the hug, her pale face flushing bright red as her gold-flecked green eyes darted around the bridge. She grabbed Data's hand and pulled him into the briefing room, waiting for the doors to close before she snapped: "Why do you have to embarrass me like that?!"

"I am your father, darling," Data said, affectionately tucking a stray wisp of auburn hair behind her ear before bending slightly to kiss her pale forehead. "It is my job to embarrass you."

"Yes. And you do it ever so well…" Natty said drolly, rubbing the spot he'd kissed. "But, Dad… I'm not a kid anymore, you know. I'm an Ensign – an officer. Just like you, and them!" She gestured to indicate the bridge crew beyond the doors. "I think I've earned a little respect."

"And hugging your father is not respectful?" Data inquired.

Natty sighed.

"Dad, you're missing the point."

"No, no, I understand," Data said, circling his desk to settle his guitar back in its case. He took a seat and gestured for Natty to do the same. "You wish to be treated as an adult and you believe being seen embracing your father in public would undermine the mature image you are attempting to cultivate. But, Natty," he said, folding his hands on the polished desk, "is it not one of the hallmarks of maturity to show your loved ones how much you care for them?"

Natty cocked an eyebrow.

"Is that why you've been so lovey-dovey with Rayna Kapec lately?" she retorted.

Data knit his brow.

"Rayna and I have not—"

"Exactly!" Natty pounced before he could finish. "You're all warmth and affection with me and my kid brother Isaac and even our family cat, but with Rayna you're always Mr. Formality. _Especially_ in public! If it's a hallmark of maturity to show you care, why don't you go hug _her_ once in a while and treat _me_ like a real, grown-up officer?"

Data frowned.

"Natty," he said, "have you and Rayna been talking about me?"

"The topic's come up now and then in holochat," Natty said, leaning back in her chair and weaving the paintbrush end of her waist-length French braid between her fingers. "She thinks you shut her out."

Data cocked his head, confusion creasing his pale face.

"I don't understand," he said.

"She thinks that's the reason you two aren't really going anywhere," Natty said, still playing with her hair. "Every time she tries to get close, you step back. I mean, she likes you and everything, but seriously, Dad, you've been going out with this woman since I was a first-year cadet. If you're not really serious, I don't think it's fair to expect her to keep—"

But, Data was shaking his head, his expression undeniably staggered.

Natty straightened slightly, his strong reaction catching her off guard.

"Dad?" she queried. "Are you OK?"

But, Data was too preoccupied to acknowledge her concern.

"What do you mean, I 'step back'?" he asked, his voice strangely tight. "Rayna has expressed no such complaint to me. And, as for whether I am serious about our relationship…"

He stood and began pacing back and forth in front of his fish tank, blinking rapidly.

"I was not aware she felt this way. I thought…" He sank back into his chair, his amber eyes lost and distant. "I thought everything was fine between us. I thought our love for each other…that it spoke for itself…"

"Oh, Dad…" Natty said quietly. "Dad…I'm sorry. I thought…"

"No…no, do not apologize," the commodore said distractedly. "It is better that these issues be discussed. Especially when the observation is entirely correct. I _have_ been stepping back."

He stared at her, his amber eyes wide and searching.

"Natty… _Why_ have I been stepping back?"

Natty shrank a little in her chair, not liking this sudden role reversal. The open, child-like confusion on her father's face made her feel much more like the ten year old android she was than the mature officer she strove to be.

"I…I don't know, Dad," she said awkwardly. "I'm your daughter, not your shrink. Maybe you should talk with Counselor Elbrun about this."

"But, you are the one who provided the insight," Data said. "And you have discussed the matter with Rayna. I trust your opinion, my daughter. Please, tell me your thoughts."

Natty pursed her lips and sighed.

"Look, Dad…" she tried. "All I can think of is… Well… If you _do_ love Rayna, and you genuinely _want_ this relationship to grow, but something keeps holding you back from expressing that wish..." She twiddled her thumbs against her fingers. "That something could be fear. I think you might be scared."

"Scared?" her father repeated. "Scared of what?"

Natty shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"This is too weird…"

"Please, Natty," Data said, "If I am to address this situation with any efficacy, I require information. Go on. I promise, you will not upset me."

"Yeah, right," Natty muttered, but she pushed her braid back over her shoulder and leaned forward over the desk, resolved to address her father as one adult android to another.

"Dad," she said, meeting his wide amber eyes with her green ones, "Isaac and I…and Rayna too… We've only ever known you as you are now: a high-powered Starfleet Commodore, commander of the Federation's flagship. But before that, before us, before the upgrade that granted you your mortality and all those synthetic organs and tissues that so closely mimic organic structures, your situation was quite different. I mean, you're still pretty pale, but I've seen images of how you used to look, with white-gold skin and bright yellow eyes. I've read through your early schematics and diagnostic records. I know about your struggles with that weird emotion chip, and how, without it, you were only able to process your feelings in an intellectualized, highly abstracted way."

"Then, you should also know that is no longer the case," Data said. "Since my upgrade, my emotions are fully integrated. As are yours and your brother's, since I modeled you both after my current design."

"Yes," Natty said. "But that's now. I'm talking about _then_. We're all of us shaped by our early experiences, Dad, good and bad. And when it comes to the really bad ones… Well, we can learn to build around them, and even overcome the more major upsets, but that doesn't mean the memories of those bad events won't continue to affect how we approach new situations and new relationships…even if it's not always on a conscious level."

"Are you saying that's what I have been doing?" Data asked. "That some trauma from my past has subconsciously been influencing my responses to Rayna, causing me to maintain emotional distance despite her clear, and welcome, overtures of affection?"

"Well, Dad, what do you think?" Natty asked. "I mean…how many romantic relationships did you have before Rayna? Like, real, serious romantic relationships? I can't think there've been too many."

Data blinked at her, his mouth opening slightly in a hurt sort of surprise.

"No! No, Dad, I didn't mean it like that! I just...that is..."

Natty sighed and shook her head.

"You're a fantastic father," she said sincerely. "A great friend, and a brilliant commander. Seriously. I love you Dad, more than anything, but you do still have trouble sometimes processing and expressing your feelings. You intellectualize and analyze. Your feelings tend to take a back seat to that. And romantic relationships...well..."

She winced, and shrugged a little helplessly.

Data rested his chin on his palm, his amber eyes sliding from side to side as he contemplated his daughter's words. After a moment, he stood and walked around his desk to take her hand in his, drawing her to his side as he said, "Natalie, come with me. There is something I would like to show you."

 _To Be Continued..._

 _References include: "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Jule Styne and Sammy Cahn, 1945, featured on Brent Spiner's 1991 CD "Ol' Yellow Eyes is Back."_

CONTINUITY NOTE: Commodore Data's 'upgrade', discussed in this chapter, took place in Chapters 24-25 of my previous story "Fathers and Sons." I introduced my original characters Natty and Isaac Soong in the epilogue of that story along with a current version of Rayna Kapec, the android daughter of the immortal Akharin from TOS: Requiem for Methuselah. Akharin was featured in the Star Trek novel "Immortal Coil," where he was one of Noonian Soong's and Ira Graves's professors and mentors, and the "Cold Equations" series, where he revived Data's android 'mother' Juliana [introduced in TNG: Inheritance] after her pre-programmed systems shutdown took place in "Immortal Coil" and brought her to live with him on an isolated world, their implied relationship making the ancient android-creator, essentially, Data's 'stepfather' or 'brother-in-law' depending on whether the Juliana android is considered to carry Juliana's actual transferred consciousness or just her memories.

QUESTION: If, in TNG: The Schizoid Man, Dr. Graves claimed to be Data's 'grandpa' because he mentored Data's father, Dr. Soong, _their_ mentor Akharin would be Data's great-grandfather. If Data's 'mother' (the android version of Soong's ex-wife) married Akharin, Data's great-grandfather, she would become stepmother to Akharin's daughter, Rayna, as well as Data's 'great-grandma'. If Data were to marry Rayna, the daughter of his great-grandmother, would that then make him his own grandpa? LOL! Maybe this is why I get migraines...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter - first part of a two-part conclusion! Will this story have a happy ending? Stay tuned! :)


	7. Locks and Keys, Part II: Keys

**6\. Locks and Keys, Part II: Keys**

Natty leaned over the balcony wall, peering down at the tall, elegant lighthouse, then resting back on her elbows to stare up at the soaring towers of her sister's storybook castle.

"Wow," she commented. "I'll bet Lal could have been a pretty great architect, if she'd lived."

"She told me she wished to be a counselor," Data said quietly, walking slowly to his daughter's side. "And a Starfleet Officer. Like you."

He smiled a small, gentle smile, and Natty briefly rested her head against his arm.

"I guess that's your influence, Dad," she said. "I'm training to be a First Contact Specialist, though, not a counselor. Still, I haven't discounted the command track. I might like to become a Commodore someday. Maybe even an Admiral…" She grinned at her father. "If I were an Admiral, you'd have to salute me."

"If you were to become an Admiral, Ensign Soong, it would be my privilege, and my pleasure, to do so," Data told her.

"Aye, sir," Natty said teasingly, and squinted out at the rose-gold sky.

Data watched her for a moment, noting how she stood so confidently in her officer's uniform, the salty wind blowing tendrils of auburn hair around her pale face, and a look of introspection flickered across his eyes.

"Natty," he said. "How did you know…that you were female?"

Natty glanced at him, tucking some loose hair behind her ear.

"What do you mean?"

"I am curious," her father said. "Did you or your brother ever wonder why I thought it so important that my children should have the opportunity to select their own gender and appearance?"

Natty frowned a little, clearly confused.

"I don't know," she said. "Because we're androids? We're not beholden to the whims of genetics and biology."

"True enough," Data said. "We are constructed mechanical life forms, not organic beings. And yet, although we are not part of the biological gene pool, gender identity remains a significant factor in our lives, not only with regard to our own self-image, but to how we relate to and are perceived by others."

Natty squinted at him.

"What exactly are you asking me, Dad?" she asked.

"I just want to know," he said, "what is it that makes you so certain that you identify as female? What makes Isaac certain he is male?"

"It's a brain thing, Dad," Natty said. "You know that – way better than I do. But…I guess it's emotional too. I mean, when I see a guy…I know I'm not a guy. And…when I see a really hot guy…"

She shrugged, clearly feeling awkward confessing these things to her father.

"Well, I know my sense of gender identity goes way deeper than just my outer appearance, if you get what I mean."

Data frowned thoughtfully and gave a little nod.

"I see…"

"But that's- I mean…not that I ever…" Natty stammered, flushing up to her ears. "I mean…OK, I've been out on dates, but that was mostly a social thing, in groups, and…yeah, I kissed this one boy…not that it went anywhere since we knew we were graduating soon and we'd be off to different assignments but…"

She wrinkled her brow and studied her father's odd, distant expression.

"That's not really what you're asking about, is it," she said, starting to get a little concerned. "Dad, come on," she said gently. "What is this all about?"

Data snorted a little, his amber eyes rather wistful.

"You amaze me, my daughter," he said, and smiled. "Your social acumen is as acute as any healthy, intuitive, well-socialized human's…and I could not be prouder to be your father. You must have come as quite a surprise to your academy instructors."

"Not so much," Natty said. "Most of them didn't even know I was an android unless I told them and the ones who did know were, like, it didn't matter. It's the same way now, at the Embassy. My bosses and colleagues don't really care that I'm a machine, or that my brain is made of silicon rather than gray matter. They all know I'm a living person, just like them."

"Exactly my point," Data said, and leaned back against the balcony wall, staring up at the clouds through the spires of Lal's castle. "Our circumstances have changed…so very much…over the years… Where once Starfleet viewed an android as property…as a mere product of cybernetics research… Enough to…seize…an infant from her father…"

His expression clenched involuntarily, and his pale fingers tightened against the stone wall.

"Today, the fact of our personhood is all but a given," he went on. "And, while you and your brother may thrive in this new twenty-fifth century atmosphere of…unthinking tolerance… For me, the trust required to accept this new reality…not just to acknowledge there have been some notable shifts in attitude, but to truly _accept_ them…"

He sighed, and turned his gaze to the brightening horizon.

"I never had the opportunity to choose my gender or appearance," he said, his voice low with a very old hurt that, though it no longer stung, remained a prominent ache. "They were assigned to me by my father…a man I never truly had the opportunity to know or question. He abandoned me to a galaxy that viewed me as a technological curiosity, left me entirely alone without the capacity to process and experience intense, human-like emotions, never mind navigate the largely non-verbal social networks humans build around themselves. Adrift in this awful sink-or-swim scenario, it took me nearly three decades to manage to develop the confidence…and, perhaps, the courage…to consider myself a person, a _life form_ , let alone a 'man.' And, the moment I did start to believe that…perhaps… Perhaps my masculinity was more than a convenient pronoun humans could employ in place of 'it' when they wished to seem polite or considerate…"

He took in a sharp breath, then opened his eyes and pointed down to the rocky cliff below, indicating a small wooden bench gracefully entwined with roses.

"Do you know why I created that memorial, Natty?" he asked.

Natty regarded him, her eyes tight with compassion as well as confusion.

"You said it was for Tasha Yar. The first woman you ever…well…"

"Loved?" Data supplied. He glanced at her and shook his head, rather sadly. "No. I did not love Tasha. Nor did she love me. We were friends. Good friends. Never anything more."

"Well…she did die…"

"Yes," Data acknowledged grimly. "But she was not the first colleague of mine to perish in the line of duty. Not even aboard the _Enterprise_."

Natty frowned.

"OK, then why did you program that bench?"

Data pursed his lips, then turned to face his daughter.

"Natty, how would you respond if I were to tell you that you are a beautiful, intelligent young woman?"

Natty's frown deepened.

"I'd tell you that goes without saying. Why—"

"That is why."

Natty shook her head.

"OK, you totally lost me here, Dad. Just…what exactly are you getting at?"

"The first time I truly considered myself to be…male…" he said. "The first time I realized my…external anatomy…may not simply have been the arbitrary assignment of a man who wished only to construct an android in his own image…"

He sighed.

"It was the moment I saw Tasha walk through her bedroom doors."

Data spoke very quietly, his amber eyes distant with memory.

"I watched as she moved toward me with that…look…in her eyes," he said. "She…touched me… And I knew. I _knew_ I was male, inside as well as out, and I wanted her to know that too. The polywater intoxicant may have been at work, but for me… Knowing that she viewed me as the man I suddenly felt myself to be… That was the true intoxicant. In that one, brief moment when our eyes locked, our fingers met… My _personhood_ , my _masculinity_ … It was more than a program, more than any...mechanical response..."

He swallowed and lowered his eyes.

"It went without saying."

Natty's expression widened in comprehension and she reached for her father's arm. He patted her hand, but his eyes remained distant.

"Still," he said, "as Captain Scott once cautioned, one should never get drunk unless he is willing to pay the price the next day. Without emotional backing, my epiphany was not enough to sustain a romantic relationship. Tasha's denial of the event seemed a denial of my realization and for a long time I doubted my perceptions. After all, we had both been highly intoxicated. And then, Ishara…"

He broke off and shifted position, his eyes drifting to the stretch of beach and water where the dock and jet skis had been.

"Ishara was Tasha's younger sister, right?" Natty asked.

"Yes," Data said. "I brought her here once, to this island… Showed her Lal's castle, Tasha's bench… She knew I was an android but, when she looked at me… Somehow, she managed to convince me that, in her eyes, I was a man. It was there when she touched my hand…when she smiled at me… It was like a validation. When she took my hand, she did it in public, in Ten Forward. When she kissed my cheek…we were on the bridge. Tasha had never shown any public signs of affection for me, but Ishara… It was as if she went out of her way to…flirt with me…in front of my colleagues. The attention she showed me brought back that sense I'd experienced with Tasha…that belief in my own masculine identity. I...valued that, valued her, the input she afforded by treating me like...a man... She became so special to me, so quickly... Her betrayal…"

He ran a hand over his face and turned away.

"Well, it set me back quite a bit," he admitted. "After that…I no longer trusted myself or my self-perception of myself as anything other than a machine in the _shape_ of a man. And no one around me seemed much bothered. In fact, some months later, when I confessed to Counselor Troi that I had not yet discounted the possibility that I might, someday, marry… She seemed so surprised! As if the possibility had never occurred to her."

He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the turbulent waves.

"Her reaction didn't hurt at the time, of course, and I certainly don't blame her for it, but it was…most unsettling, and only contributed to my self-doubt. I am afraid I have projected this self-doubt to subsequent relationships. It was one of the primary causes of my break-up with Jenna D'Sora and a reason there really have been no other…special…women in my life…until I met Rayna. With her, now, after all these years… I honestly feel that I have finally met someone who understands me, who loves me for who and what I am, who undoubtedly perceives me as a man, not just a machine wearing the shape of a man… And yet, I hold back. I shut her out, duck away when she gets too close…"

He looked back at Natty, his expression frank, and a little resigned.

"You are right, my daughter," he said. "I am afraid. Afraid of being wrong about myself, about her, of misinterpretation, of…being rejected…again…after all I have accomplished, all I have struggled so hard to become… And I don't know what to do. I do not want her to leave me. Nor do I wish to push her away. But, either of these scenarios may happen if I continue to behave…as I have been behaving. I realize I am being irrational, but emotions _are_ irrational and I…I just don't know how to make this awful terror go away!"

"I think you do," Natty said. "In fact, I think you're practicing right now."

Data tilted his head in befuddlement, and Natty smiled at her father, her gold-flecked eyes brimming with warm affection.

"Tell her," she said. "Bring her here. This place, this island of yours…it's a metaphor, Dad. If you want to open your heart to her, let her into your world…bring her here. Like you brought me."

Data's clasped fingers twitched and he winced a little, his expression vulnerable.

"Really?" he said. "You think… That is…the program is not too…?"

"What?" Natty said. "Old? Dusty? Outdated?"

"Ouch," Data said, but he was beginning to smile.

Natty moved closer, leaning her head against his shoulder as they stared out at the sea together.

"You're not too late, Dad," she said. "In many ways, your life – all our lives – are just beginning. You've locked this program – this place – away long enough. You let me in. Now, extend the invitation to Rayna. Let her see the man you've shown me before either of you begin to discount your relationship."

Data nodded, gently resting his cheek against his daughter's hair.

"And…if I were ever to, perhaps, ask Rayna to—"

"Marry you?" Natty looked up at him and smiled. "I'd be all for it, Dad. Me and Isaac both. Trust me, we—"

"Bridge to Commodore Data."

The two officers shared a look, then stepped apart so the commodore could answer the call.

"Data here," he said.

Commander Kinoshita's voice continued: "We are receiving a message from inside the globular cluster, sir. But the nature of the signal… Well, it's like nothing we've encountered before."

"I'm on my way, Commander," Data said, and broke communications, his amber eyes already shining with curiosity.

"What do you think, Dad?" Natty asked, her green eyes exhibiting a similar gleam. "Could we be looking at a first contact mission here?"

"Unknown. But, if so, this could be your lucky day, Ensign," Data said, and took her hand, the pair of them sharing a broad, excited grin. "This, Natty, is why I love commanding the _Enterprise_. Let's go see who's out there!"

* * *

Two weeks later, Data was met by a ball of flying orange fur as he strode into his quarters.

"Tigger!" the android greeted his beloved cat. "Bounced again!" He gave the cat a quick snuggle, then placed him back on the sofa from which he'd sprung.

"Hello!" he called into the large, rather eclectically cluttered cabin. "Anybody home?"

"Father!" his son's voice called back. "I'm in here!"

Isaac's room was a walk-in tribute to the young android's love for music and advanced mathematics. An artistically rendered, geometric representation of the Euler formula graced one window while pi spiraled out like a galaxy from the center of the ceiling, fading into the busy holographic posters that adorned the walls, depicting Isaac's favorite groups and artists ranging from Brahms and Mozart to the icons of Romulan reggae. Piles of computer parts, holoprojectors, and musical instruments littered the floor, and a palindromic musical score was imprinted in black on Isaac's white bedspread.

"I see you've cleaned up a little in here," Data said wryly.

"Father, Father, you've got to see this," Isaac said, grabbing Data's arm and pulling him deeper into the room. The commodore followed with affectionate amusement, unable to help noting how, with his rumpled clothing, wild brown hair, and bright, blue eyes, the boy bore a striking resemblance to his grandfather, Noonian Soong.

"The research is really starting to come together now. I'm actually beginning to think I can pull this project off!" Isaac grinned. "I'm telling you, Father, that PhD is as good as mine. And once I graduate, we'll have a whole new Dr. Soong in the family!"

"I have every confidence in you, my boy. Please, show me your work," Data invited, and watched curiously as his son efficiently manipulated the complex computer console he'd been modifying for the past several months.

"As you know," Isaac said as he worked, "my research has its most basic roots in the twentieth-century notion of graphical sound, or drawn sound, techniques in which optical, polyphonic sound tracks would literally be _drawn_ on strips of film. When the film was played, viewers would hear the sound and also _see_ the drawn shapes, rather like an animated work of abstract art. What I'm trying to do is bring that idea into the twenty-fifth century through advanced mathematical modeling and holographic technology. In theory, if my designs pan out, we will be able to _listen_ to starlight… _hear_ the differing electromagnetic rhythms of life-bearing planets and lifeless moons… _read_ the music our galaxy has been beating and pulsing and dancing to since its inception!"

Isaac took a deep, awe-filled breath and beamed up at his father.

"Here we go…"

Within moments, Data was sharing his son's awe as the pair of them watched a startling holographic light show burst to life in the center of the cluttered room. Peculiar wheezing, wending whistlings gave way to lower thrums and piquant splashes of color and sound. Data gasped at the strange, surreal beauty and, as it faded, turned his wondering gaze to his son.

"What was that?" he asked.

"A recording I borrowed from Stellar Cartography," Isaac said. "One point one six minutes of our own ship's energy residuals as we travel through space." He grinned. "It's still pretty raw but, if you think that's cool, you should see the clip I'm rendering from that pulsar we passed three weeks ago!"

Data stared at him, unable to contain his amazement.

"Isaac…this is… Well, it's incredible. When do you think you will be ready to write up your results?"

"It won't be long now," Isaac told him. "So, you really like it? You think this sort of research could be useful someday?"

"Isaac," Data said, "I think your work here has myriad valuable applications – from exploration to medical research to straight-up art. What you just showed me… It's beautiful, son. Absolutely beautiful."

Isaac's smile turned shy and he ducked his head.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

Data bent down to kiss his son's head, then affectionately ruffled his already unruly hair.

"Keep working," he said, and squeezed Isaac's shoulder. "I have to find Rayna. Is she here?"

"I think she's in the den, but she could have stepped out. I've been…sort of busy…"

"As have I," Data said. "Which is, admittedly, a large part of the reason I must find Rayna. But, busy as you are, son, do not forget to join us for dinner. Natty may have returned to the Embassy with the Oortnoid delegation, but that's no reason for us to stop sharing our family meals all together."

"I'll be there," Isaac said distractedly, clearly absorbed in his work. "Love you, Father."

Data paused by the doorway, his lips creased by a smile.

"I love you too, Isaac."

The family den, which Rayna often used as a sort of home office, was the next door down. If she was in there, her android hearing had no doubt registered his return home. Data steeled himself for a moment, quickly going over the invitation he'd been rehearsing over and over again in his mind, then strode straight in...only to catch a glimpse of her computer screen before she had the chance to blank it out.

He furrowed his brow, a strange, heavy sensation clamping around his heart.

"Was that..."

He frowned and moved closer to her, staring from her pensive face to the blank screen.

"Rayna," he said. "Was that an application to join the research faculty at Stanford University? On Earth?"

"What if it was," the blonde woman said, drawing herself up in her most regal pose. "Can you honestly tell me you'd notice if I left this ship?"

"Rayna..."

Data stared, his head trembling ever so slightly. Then, slowly, he sank to the floor and buried his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know... I am aware I have given you the impression that..."

He swallowed hard, pressing his palms against his stinging eyes.

Rayna regarded him, her dark eyes softening with confusion, and even a little concern.

"Data," she said. "Data, come on, get up. How are we supposed to have this fight with you huddled on the floor?"

"I do not wish to fight with you, Rayna," Data said, shifting heavily from the floor to a chair. "Your anger is entirely warranted."

"Yes, it is," she said. "Which is why I _do_ want to fight with _you_! We _need_ to have this out, Data, once and for all! To that end, I've been sitting here, rehearsing in my mind all the things I've been wanting to scream at you-and now you go and concede before I've barely said a word? Do you have any idea how frustrating that is? How unsatisfying?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, then winced at the glare she shot him. "It's just...the thought that you... That I caused you to... Just because I..."

He lowered his head, seeming to be speaking more to himself than to her.

"Natty promised me it was not too late..."

Rayna wrinkled her brow, thoroughly confused.

"Data, what are you talking about?"

"I am talking about my insensitivity," the android admitted, his voice heavy. "To your feelings and to my own. Natty has made me aware of how foolish I have been. She accused me of...hiding...behind formality, of stepping back... And it's true! I allowed my fears and doubts to cloud my trust in you...in us...and, consequentially, unknowingly erected an emotional barrier that left me on one side...and you on the other. My resulting behavior has been callous and inexcusable and if you now wish to leave me for an environment you believe would more fully embrace and respect you, I do understand. But, before you make that decision..."

Data took a deep, somewhat shaky breath and rose to his feet.

"Rayna Kapec," he said. "Although I have been alive for over eighty years now in one form or another, you are the first woman I have ever truly loved and the only one I know has honestly loved me back. The thought that I have hurt you...however inadvertently..."

He swallowed, and reached for her hand.

"Can you forgive me, Rayna?" he asked.

Rayna pursed her lips and gave his hand a squeeze, but her eyes were deep with sadness.

"Oh, Data..." she said. "I do love you. And I love your children. I can understand if you've been anxious. Even...afraid. After all, the relationship we've been trying to build here...it's admittedly new territory for both of us. But, suppose I say yes, that I will stay, that I will forgive you...even without our fight. How can you assure me you won't fall right back into the same insensitive behaviors as soon as things get busy around here again?"

Data released her hand and ran his fingers rather helplessly through his slowly graying hair.

"What do you want, Rayna?" he asked her. "Tell me, please. What sort of relationship - what sort of life - would make you happy?"

Rayna walked from the computer console to the small couch and gestured for Data to sit beside her. As he did, she curled up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder and reaching across his chest to entwine her fingers with his.

"We're nearly the same age, you and I," she said, a little smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It was your discovery on Omicron Theta that inspired my father to try his hand at building an android one last time... We both spent our early years in social isolation...me on my father's beautiful, but empty world...you on your crowded, but friendless, starships... But our lives have been so different, Data. You've had a chance to prove yourself, to forge a career, find friendship, build a family of your own. My father kept me close, claimed he needed me, that it would hurt him too much were I ever to leave. If he hadn't found Juliana...if she hadn't fallen in love with him... I might have lived my whole life right there, never having the chance to travel the stars, to pursue my own life, my own work...my own love..."

She sighed, and dropped her head to his chest, listening to the beating of his synthetic heart.

"I can't live like that, Data. Not anymore, not ever again. I don't want to be alone, but I will not be taken for granted. You may be the celebrated Commodore, commander of the Federation's flagship, but I am a scientist at the cusp of my career. I won't sacrifice my liberty for the perceived safety of a relationship, especially a partnership as unequal and unfair as ours has been. However much I care for you, Data, however much I love living and working here aboard the Enterprise, I can't let myself become just...an addendum...to you, your crew, and your family."

Data closed his eyes and rested his chin against her soft hair.

"This is my fault," he said. "I have caused you to feel less important than you are, and there is no excuse for that. But Rayna, you are not an addendum. Far from it. I only wish I could show you..."

He straightened, and looked down into her dark eyes.

"Rayna, will you accompany me to the holodeck?"

She squinted at him and sat up.

"The holodeck? Why?"

"Please," he said. "There is something very important I need to share with you and...I just can't say it all here. But, perhaps, once you see... You will understand how much you mean to me. How very special you truly are."

Rayna shook her head.

"Pretty words, Data," she said. "And you're often pretty full of them. But actions speak louder. I can't—"

"No, no, please, just listen," he said. "I know I've behaved coldly, even dismissively at times, but I am aware of these behaviors now as well as the cause and I refuse to allow my ancient, outdated fears to continue to impact our relationship. Now, if you are concerned about my duty to my ship - that it might take priority over us - just know that the safety of the ship includes the welfare of my family. And you are a member of this family, Rayna. Isaac and Natalie have both assured me that they love you and look up to you as a mother, as I am sure you know. If you are concerned about the nature of our relationship, whether we can share a living, breathing partnership without losing the romance, the love that initially brought us together, or without coming into conflict over issues of authority, over how to advise and raise the children..."

He pursed his lips and clasped both her hands between his own.

"Partnership involves listening and being open to the fears and concerns of each loved one," he said. "I know, I trust, that our love is real. We share a common desire to be a family, to share a lifetime of experiences...to strive to become more than the sum of our parts. And, Rayna, we can do that together. Sharing a love, a real love...it has the potential to make us so much more than we are. A family is its individual members, yes, but when those individuals come together, they have the ability to form a loving gestalt of mutual support and respect. If that is our goal, to live as a We, an Us, while respecting the I..."

Data cut himself off and dropped her hands, turning his head away.

"Words," he said, and offered her a sad little smile, blinking back the tears stinging his eyes. "You're right: I'm just full of pretty words. What right have I to these words when it is I who kept this gestalt from forming..."

He swallowed hard and walked toward the door.

"Rayna... I apologize. Again. I am truly dismayed at how very selfish I have been...how selfish I am still being! You are a free, brilliant woman. I will respect any choice you make and, if you choose not to stay with me... I will understand."

Rayna frowned.

"What are you doing?" she said. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you now? _You_ shut me out, _you_ make me feel superfluous, but somehow _I_ get to come off as the insensitive jerk?"

"That is not my intent, Rayna, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from twisting my meaning," Data said, striding back to her. "I came to a realization while Natty was here, a realization that opened my eyes to a weakness in myself that I am not at all proud to admit. I was not aware of it before, but now I understand that it was covering up this weakness, this shameful self-doubt, that caused me to raise this emotional wall between us. I ask only for the chance..."

He sighed.

"I want to tear it down," he said. "I want to let you in, to open my whole heart to you. But, unless you're willing to help me learn how..."

He shook his head a little helplessly.

"I don't know," he said. "I guess... Perhaps we have reached the point where..."

"Where what, Data?" Rayna asked, searching his expression with her piercing dark eyes.

"Where we either break up..." He looked up at her, meeting her eyes with his own. "Or move forward."

Rayna held his gaze, moving closer until their faces were nearly touching.

Data felt a powerful urge to close the distance, to press his lips to hers, but he refrained, concentrating instead on maintaining their intense, unbroken stare.

Slowly, Rayna smiled and tapped his nose with her finger.

Data blinked several times, then tilted his head.

"Rayna?" he asked. "Does this mean...?"

"Ask me later," she said. "After dinner. Then, maybe, I'll go to the holodeck with you."

Data nodded, barely able to contain his grin as he turned toward the door.

"Oh, and Data...?"

"Yes, Rayna?"

She moved in close again, rising to her toes until her nose just brushed against his.

"My gender and appearance were also assigned to me by my father," she told him. "I never chose to be female. But since I've known you..."

She kissed him, gently at first, but with passionate sincerity, and he didn't hold back, allowing himself to melt fully into her embrace. When they finally parted, his limbs felt oddly weak, but his heart and mind were soaring.

" _Ohmygod_ , I love you," he mumbled into her golden hair, holding her close against him as she stroked her hand up and down his back. "Rayna, I love you. I love you, I love you."

"I know," she whispered, and smiled up at him. "Dinner?"

"Mmph," he said and, quite reluctantly, loosened his embrace enough to let her go. "So, am I to take it that Natty told you of our chat in the holodeck before she left?"

"Only because she cares about you," Rayna said.

"About us," he corrected.

Her smile broadened and she took his hand in hers.

"Come on, Commodore," she said. "It's family time now. How much do you want to bet our boy's still locked away with his research?"

"Isaac does have an internal chronometer that should-"

Data paused, and blinked at her.

" _Our_ boy?" he said, a smile pulling at his lips.

Rayna raised her eyebrows.

"You object?"

"Oh, far from it," he said, a broad, beaming grin gripping his face and refusing to let go. "Rayna?"

"Yes, Data?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Rayna?"

"Mm hmm?"

"Will you marry me?"

~fin~

 _References include TNG: The Offspring; The Measure of a Man; Datalore; Brothers; Data's Day; In Theory; Legacy; Skin of Evil; Relics; TOS: Requiem for Methuselah; the Cold Equations novels and Immortal Coil._

 _Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story! :)_


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